


old stories and scars born anew

by 90scyke (peachypiper)



Category: Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: (g-d i suck at tags sorry), (kinda. mostly fluff towards the end tho), Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot, They're cute, also tw for mentions of character death? but it's canon so y'know, i also wrote this while reading astonishing x-men for the 3rd time in a row, i fuckign cried i love them so much, like major body horror, mlm author, sappy romance-y bits, so there's that, tw for body horror in the beginning, you expect it cause that's kinda what this is based off of anyway haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 08:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12979761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachypiper/pseuds/90scyke
Summary: it's been months - has it been months? could it have even been years? he can't keep track anymore - since jean grey died at xorn's hands. the initial shock and mourning has passed, and most of the staff and students at the institute have bigger things to worry about, especially with professor xavier "missing".scott has his full share of responsibilities to take care of himself - he's acting headmaster, leader of the x-men, professional hero, teacher, and one of the three surviving links in jean, emma, logan, and scott's happy relationship. nonetheless, he can't stop dreaming about jean - he knows she's gone, but her memory still haunts him, alive and happy and well. he can keep up the unbothered and unaffected act for as long as he needs to, but after a particularly violent nightmare, he can feel himself beginning to crack. this time, however, he doesn't have to face it alone.





	old stories and scars born anew

**Author's Note:**

> hello all i'm back from the grave, where i guess i've been for the past ALMOST YEAR holy crap i'm horrible! anyway this piece takes place during the beginning/middle of joss whedon's run on astonishing x-men, so before m-day and the move to utopia. basically all you need to know is that jean's dead after the events in new x-men (which is canon anyway). please heed the tags; major tw for body horror in the beginning dream sequence, so if that bothers you, you should skip to where the italic text ends.
> 
> i wrote this because honestly? i just needed some scott and logan content where they dealt with the aftereffects of jean's death. grief does a number on you, and shame on marvel for not showing it on panel. like it's a big thing, and it was permanent for a long time! anyway long story short i'm emotional and marvel sucks.  
> also what a shocker coming from me but there's almost no cursing in this fic. any cursing shown is very, very, very minor. like very minor.
> 
> yeah okay i'll shut up now! thanks y'all!

_Scott opens his eyes, and for the first time, nothing is tinted red; everything is in full color, just as it was when he was a child. But he’s not a child now; he’s grown up, with Jean, with his wife, with their tarnished silver wedding bands glimmering in the light on their interlaced hands. He’s standing on soft, white sand, holding tenderly on to Jean as she kneels beside him and plays with a mermaid’s purse. The ocean in front of them ripples gently, waves nothing more than thin lines of water against the glowing sunset._

_Jean’s hand moves to the small of his back, and it’s warm, comforting. She’s so calm, smiling so freely back at him, and he can’t help but be reminded of how much he loves her. They’re finally okay. No disaster on the horizon, no tragedy lurking in their midst. Her body is warm against his as he takes her other hand in his again._

_He frowns, confused. Her hand is burning him. His eyes widen, filling with tears as he realizes what’s happening. “No,” he whispers, choking on the smoke rising from their smoldering hands, “no, no, no, no, no… Not again…” Jean is growing hotter and hotter, with no signs of stopping, and now Scott is in agony._

_Jean removes her heated hand from his back and turns to face him. Her face is contorted, and she’s beginning to glow a fiery reddish-orange. “Scott,” she whispers, her voice strained. “Oh, Scott…” She bursts into flames, the ever-terrifying afterimage of the Phoenix enveloping her and warping her beyond recognition._

_She falls into him, now a scorched corpse, and it chars his outstretched arms. They begin to melt into her dead body, dripping marrow and flesh and blood, and he screams. No one can hear him._

_His body is falling apart now, each limb and tissue and organ melting into another, becoming a blackened mess, a funeral pyre. Jean’s corpse lies still in his arms, his dying arms, and he is sobbing, the salt tears catching the light like diamonds as they slide down his cheeks. His tears feed the now-stormy ocean, which envelops them and swallows his cries._

_“A hurricane and its eye,” he hears as he goes under. “One can’t exist without the other…”_

_He can’t speak, can’t move, can’t breathe - he can only watch in horror as he starts to float apart, the strength of the current pulling him like a black hole. The last image he sees before his brain unravels is Logan, crying out for him, for Jean, for Emma, blood-tainted tears streaming from the drooping eye sockets where he had sunk his claws into his own skull. And then, just as suddenly as it started, he becomes nothing, only dust and dead tissue in the ebb and flow of the unforgiving sea._

 

Scott jolts awake, a high-pitched cry filling the room around him. He shakes and clutches his head, trying to rid his brain of the noise. In the cacophony, he notices something sharp graze his chin. He looks down at the bed find Logan’s claws dangerously close to his jugular. The keen stops abruptly and Scott feels his throat hitch. _Oh. Shoot_ , he thinks, a terrible sinking feeling forming in his abdomen as he realizes that the screaming was his. If he had been loud enough to wake Logan, what were the odds that one or two - or, God forbid, a larger portion - of the students had heard?

“Logan… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… It was just…” Scott tries to explain, but is cut off by a sob rising in his throat. “I - I -” _No. There’s no room for losing control. File it away. I can’t make a scene, I can’t draw attention to myself like this -_

His train of thought is broken when Logan, claws appropriately sheathed, places a gentle hand on Scott’s shoulder. “It was Jean again, wasn’t it?” he asks, his voice husky.

Scott nods without speaking, tears pooling in his eyes and threatening to spill over his glasses. He feels ridiculous, making such a fuss over a dream, and yet, a small part of him just wants to melt away into his partner and let him take care of the problem.

He makes to wipe away the tears pricking in his eyes, but Logan reaches up and takes the glasses off of Scott’s face. Scott screws his eyes shut, protesting, “Logan… You can’t just do that, I’ll hurt you… Give my glasses back…”

“Shush. Yer fine, Slim. I gotcha.” With surprising care, Logan brushes away the damp mess from Scott’s face. “There. See? Well, maybe don’t. We don’t have the money ta replace the Institute if ya blow it up. ‘Specially since we don’t know where Chuck is.” He chuckles at his own joke. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Figured it was Jeannie,” he continues. He pulls Scott into him with a tender embrace and runs a hand through his soft auburn hair. “Only one thing can make ya scream like that anymore, an’ that’s her.”

“I miss her. I miss her so, so much… Oh, God…” Scott buries his face in Logan’s chest, soaking them both in a flood of tears. He can’t hold it back anymore, and at this point, with his boyfriend’s strong arms around him, he doesn’t want to. “It’s all my fault… I never should have let us grow apart. I could have helped her, and I… I abandoned her…”

“Scott. It’s not yer fault. It ain’t anyone’s. The world has had it out fer Jeannie ever since her mutation appeared when she was a kid. You remember that,” Logan says softly, continuing to stroke Scott’s hair in a soothing rhythm. “We couldnt’ve done anything about it. Not even you could’ve.”

“But - but there was a chance I could have prevented it - maybe, just maybe…” Scott pauses, biting his lip. “I shouldn’t have let Emma get in the way of my relationship with Jean. It was wrong of me to allow that…” Scott trails off into silence, suddenly very aware of the insensitivity of his words. _Damn it._

Logan throws the flannel blanket covering them off and sits up in bed. He lifts Scott effortlessly onto his lap and cups his slender chin in his right hand, tilting it so that Scott’s closed eyes are level with his own. Scott shudders at his firm grip and whimpers softly.

“No. You listen ta me. It ain’t Emma’s fault either, Summers. If you say somethin’ dumb like that again, I won’t hesitate ta kick yer ass. I love ya, we all do, but ya gotta know what’s proper,” Logan growls.

“Ya can’t just say things like that. Emma loved Jean, too, just as much as you an’ I did. Blamin’ her isn’t gonna get ya anything except self-loathin’ and loneliness. An’ a pissed-off boyfriend.” He clears his throat. “We’ve gotta stick together now, Cyke. The three of us.”

“I - I’m sorry,” Scott mumbles. He can feel his face flushing in his embarrassment, and he hopes for the slim chance that Logan can’t feel it, too. _I should have just kept my mouth shut_. “I wasn’t thinking. It was the wrong thing to say, and I - I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

“‘Course ya weren’t. Grief does funny things to yer brain. Makes yer thinkin’ all wonky,” Logan replies, dropping the harshness from his voice. He plants a soft kiss on Scott’s head and squeezes his shoulder, gently this time. “I know it’s hard.”

“I just -” Scott can barely choke out his words. “I just wish she would come back. Sometimes, when she was…gone, before, I could still feel her, like our psychic rapport was still working somehow, but now… It’s like it’s static now. Nothing there. She’s - She’s gone forever, and she’s not coming back, and I’m never going to see her again, and…” Scott breaks down on Logan’s lap, wracked with sobs and pained cries.

“Shh…” Logan rubs firm, comforting circles into Scott’s back, murmuring inarticulate reassurance in his ear. “Shh…”

“Logan,” Scott wails, “I want to die…”

“No, no, ya don’t. Yer upset an’ yer not thinkin’ straight is all.”

“I do want to die… I want to die so I can be with Jean again, so I can be whole again, with her, so we can all be whole again…” Scott sobs, “I’ve already lost her so many times…”

Scott’s breathing turns to hyperventilation as his crying grows in intensity and every breath he draws is hitched and shuddering. Logan continues to console him, ignoring the watery snot and tears dripping from Scott’s face.

Slowly, his gasping steadies and his convulsing comes to a stop. Scott whimpers plaintively, his reservoir of tears finally empty, and hides his puffy, tear-streaked face in Logan’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, feeling small and childish. “I shouldn’t have done that. I said some bad things.”

“Shh. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay? Yer upset, and we all say stupid things when we’re upset,” Logan replies, running his fingers through Scott’s wet, clumped hair. “Yer fine.”

“I… Okay.”

“Atta boy, Slim. Yer gonna be okay. You’ve gotten past this before, and Emma and I are gonna be here, with you, every step of the way,” Logan says. He cradles Scott’s upper body in his arms as he lets out a final quiet sniffle. “We - I - love ya, Scott. But I’ve gotta go get all yer mucus off my body now, before it dries an’ I’m covered in dry snot. I think ya know how nasty that is.”

Scott’s cheeks go scarlet and his jaw drops slightly. He hadn’t meant to make a mess. “Oh, Logan, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realize it got so messy. I, uh, didn’t mean to do all that.”

Logan shakes his head, amused, and turns to enter the suite bathroom. “Pshh. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve been grosser.”

“It’s still not good. I feel bad about it,” Scott says, his timbre bordering on a whine. “I’m sorry.”

“Ya know what you can do for me, if you’re feelin’ so apologetic? Keep the bed warm for me. I’ll be right back,” Logan says. He drops another soft kiss on Scott’s forehead and heads towards the bathroom, his heavy footfalls making the wooden floor creak.

“You’re stomping again.” Scott purses his lips and furrows his brow in slight confusion. “Are you mad at me?”

Logan lets out a raucous laugh. “Sorry. 400 pounds of adamantium skeleton and all. Although Hisako swears it’s the beer. What a kid, huh?”

Scott fiddles absently with the flannel blankets as he waits patiently for Logan to come back. _Maybe he is mad? He changed the subject. And he avoided the question. That’s not like him. He doesn’t sound angry, but… Maybe he just didn’t hear. I don’t know. I can’t see. I don’t know if I’d be able to tell anyway._ He brightens, ears perked up like a dog’s, as he hears the the sounds of floorboards groaning and an off-key whistle coming towards him.

Logan sits on the edge of the bed and turns to Scott. “Thanks, Slim. Mind if I join ya, now that I’m clean again?”

Scott cocks his head sideways, almost as if he can see his partner in front of him. “I don’t know. You didn’t answer my question. Are you mad at me?”

“‘Course I’m not, Scotty. We all have our moments. Some of ‘em are worse than others.” Logan sighs and takes Scott’s hand, holding it close to his heart. “I’m not mad at ya for anything tonight. I got a little pissed at yer comment about Emma, but ya weren’t thinkin’ then. Things’ve been hard for ya, and I know that. Can’t fault ya for that, now, can I?”

“Okay. You know, I really don’t know what I’d do without you,” Scott murmurs, curling into Logan as he lies back down on the bed. “I’d be lost, I think.”

“Well, I think that ya need ta quit thinkin’ about that type of thing. It ain’t gonna do ya any good. Yer just gonna end up with more bad dreams,” Logan says and ruffles his hair affectionately.

“Maybe you’re right.” Scott wriggles under his boyfriend’s arm to snuggle up against his stomach. “Maybe I should stop planning for the worst.”

“Might not be a horrible plan, Cyke. Ya don’t have to be the one in charge everywhere.”

“Yeah. Maybe. But then again, maybe I should just become a grumpy old hermit and wreak havoc on everyone else’s plans. And then I’ll disobey every direct order I’m given and deliberately spite my team leader just for the hell of it. Plus I’ll fight my coworkers and drink literal metric tons of beer right in front of the students. Oh, and I’ll be a complete jerk to anyone who even mildly pisses me off,” he muses. “I’ll just be you for a little while, Logan. How does that sound?”

Logan aims a light swat at Scott’s backside, but Scott twists deftly out of the way. “Watch it, Summers,” Logan says, bringing him in for a quick kiss. “I just let ya slobber all over me, so be nice.”

Scott licks his lips, a cheeky smile playing on his mouth. “Mm. Being nice isn’t really your style, though, is it? ‘Grr… I’m Logan Howlett and I’m old and bitter and I’m grumpy all the time and I love my boyfriend and I have a lot of weird nicknames for him. Half of them probably came from Hank, but I’m just weird so who knows. Also I think my boyfriend is too strict and maybe has a stick or two up his butt. And I don’t like that he’s allowed to boss me around. It makes me want to drink beer and yell a lot. And I know that he knows I have a lot more nuance in my personality than that, but right now I’m letting him do what he wants because I love him.’ That’s more you. Except you grunt a lot more.”

“Ya know what? It’s my turn to boss you around now, so go to sleep,” Logan laughs, almost annoyed. “I’m glad yer feeling better, but go to sleep.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Scott yawns loudly and relaxes back into Logan’s arms. “G’night, Logan. Love you.”

Logan grunts his assent, giving Scott’s arm a firm but gentle pat. Scott tucks his head into his partner’s chest, letting the steady rhythm of his deep breathing lull him peacefully back to sleep. He is safe now, protected and safeguarded; there is nothing that can hurt him while he’s here.


End file.
